


"We Keep Each Other Alive"

by Natashasolten



Category: Wiseguy
Genre: M/M, Sequel to "The Weather Outside"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-01
Updated: 2011-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natashasolten/pseuds/Natashasolten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After events in the novella "The Weather Outside," Sonny and Vinnie spend Christmas at a resort, then return home to resume their respective jobs and try to navigate the hurdles of a long-distance, still secret relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"We Keep Each Other Alive"

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to the novella "The Weather Outside."

WE KEEP EACH OTHER ALIVE

 

 

Once they got back to the steakhouse it was very late and the snow lay thick on the ground. They got into Sonny’s car and Sonny took Vinnie back to Atlantic City with him.

“Should we go back to the Diamond?” Vinnie wondered out loud.

“Why not?” Sonny said. “All your stuff is still in your suite. Nothing’s been touched; I made sure of it. And I told anyone who asked where you were that you were away with my full knowledge and permission.”

Vinnie bent his head and said softly, “You did?”

“As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you still work for me.”

“I…I…I’m sorry…”

“Shh! I know that! That’s why you left, right?”

Vinnie looked at him in the darkness of the car, the dash lights making Sonny’s face shadowy and young. “I couldn’t keep lying to you. Not after… You gave me everything…”

Sonny interrupted him as Vinnie’s voice started to crack. “Okay, so that’s settled.”

“But isn’t it dangerous?”

“What?” Sonny frowned. “You mean us?” He put his hand on the top of the steering wheel and stretched his arm, sighing. “Hell yeah. But my penthouse is private. Off-limits. No one will intrude on us. No one comes up there but housekeeping and sometimes security, and not unless I say so.”

Vinnie knew most of that. He knew Sonny was more solitary than not, which was why he’d been surprised during the time he worked for Sonny when one day Sonny gave him a key, the elevator code, and told him to make himself at home on the top floor. No one had that privilege. Sonny’s feelings for Vinnie, even before that one and only night they’d spent together, could not now in hindsight be denied.

“Hey, are you worried about… I swear, Vinnie, I have never told a soul about you, what you really do. I never even wanted to. Besides, how would that make me look?” He gave a nervous laugh. “But seriously, you’re safe. You’re under my protection.”

Vinnie frowned. He hadn’t really questioned that. It was something else. He said, “I do trust you, Sonny. But what I was really thinking was if you can trust me. I’m not spying anymore. This isn’t a case anymore. Everything…anything you tell me or that I see is between us. Confidential.”

Sonny just nodded. Then he said quietly, “I know even right now this is really griping Frank’s ass.”

Vinnie shrugged. “I don’t care. He let us go. He knows he can’t control my personal life.”

“I trust you. I’m an idiot because of you, Vincent, but I believe you. Maybe you never got to arrest me, but nothing is the same anymore. And I’m…well…I’m definitely not the same.”

Vinnie gave a short laugh. “Well, that’s too bad ‘cas I think I liked the old Sonny just fine. If there’s a new one…”

“Babe, if you’re trying to change your mind now…”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m still me,” he said softly.

“Yeah, the boy next door,” Vinnie almost whispered, echoing his words from their first night together. He saw, in the dash lights, Sonny smile and keep smiling as he drove through the darkness.

*

The drive was long. They were both tired, but they were both hyped up. Just seeing each other was…well…incredible. A high. Vinnie had the fleeting thought that he was dreaming. This could not be real. He caught himself thinking the very thing he didn’t want to be thinking right now, which was logistics. He couldn’t help himself. For the long run, he wondered, how was this going to work? After Christmas vacation, what would happen? He found himself very unromantically listing things about their relationship that might be problems out loud to Sonny. He didn’t want to be saying them, but he couldn’t stop. Because of Vinnie’s job, they were going to be separated often, maybe for months at a time. How would they deal with that? Plus, it was imperative that their relationship be secret. Despite Sonny being more modern – many of his employees at the casino were out of the closet gay men and women – the old ways of the mob were still alive and well with some of its members. They could both be killed for loving each other.

Sonny kept his eyes on the road, nodding but not saying much.

Vinnie sighed. He didn’t want to think about it all right now. He just wanted to be with Sonny. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted things figured out, fixed. He wanted some sort of control. He wanted more than phone calls at 2 A.M. He felt like he’d been spinning in circles for so long and now here he was, finally with Sonny, and suddenly he couldn’t relax. He felt stressed, wired, and in pain from his shoulder again. He kept flashing back on his time at the safe house, how crazy and alone he’d felt, how he’d wanted Sonny to come and take him away. Now that was happening, they were going away together, but it wasn’t for long enough. Even Frank’s tacit approval wasn’t enough. Nothing seemed fair tonight. He wanted more. And he couldn’t have it.

Finally, Sonny turned to him and said, “Relax, would you?”

Vinnie said, clipped, “Trying.”

Sonny laughed softly.

Vinnie wanted to laugh with him. He wanted to smile. But he stared straight ahead.

Sonny said, “Just breathe.”

Vinnie realized he had indeed been holding his breath. He let it out.

“We got six weeks to figure things out. I’ll make plans for the trip tomorrow. But right now, relax. You’re exhausted. I’m exhausted. Goddamn McPike made sure we were on edge for hours. Look, you wanna stop for a drink or something?”

Vinnie shook his head.

“You’re the one supposed to be trained for stressful situations,” Sonny added.

Vinnie just lowered his head and ran both hands through his hair.

“Hey,” Sonny said, reaching out and stroking the side of Vinnie’s face. “We’re here.” He pulled into the all-too familiar parking garage.

Sonny’s penthouse was just how Vinnie remembered it, clean, Spartan, but rich-looking, gleaming with a kind elegance that might be for anyone but Sonny, decadent. The floor to ceiling windows of the living room overlooked the downtown high rises of Atlantic City. At night it was the most beautiful. The lights glimmered as if Sonny truly lived among the stars.

Vinnie felt both hot and cold as he looked around. He couldn’t believe he was back again, truly back in Sonny’s hotel. It felt wonderful, but it felt strange. And for the first time with Sonny he stood outside of all his roles, all his made up make-believe foundations he usually fell back on. He was just Vinnie Terranova from Brooklyn, a guy who thought maybe he could make the world a little better. And here he was, in the gangster’s high rise, giddy in love and wondering if he wasn’t perhaps the biggest fool on the planet Earth.

All he could do was freeze as he tried to push away the jitters he felt at the absolute incongruity of it all.

In this moment, he did not know how to take the next step.

*

Sonny was ahead of Vinnie, checking things out. He took off his jacket and went to the bar. “Something to drink?” he asked with his back to Vinnie.

But Vinnie just stood still, a few feet from the door looking around, and when Sonny turned to him he saw Vinnie looked very unhappy.

Sonny found he could recognize all the emotions playing over Vinnie’s face and body, but was not entirely sure of all the reasons. But he thought he knew what might be happening. Vinnie was still not himself, still recovering from a serious injury, and he was overwhelmed by what that asshole Frank had put him through. And he was finally with Sonny as himself, minus all the secrets, minus all the apprehension and fables and lies he had had to tell himself to keep up the façade, the routine of being his right hand, bodyguard, and protector. Now Vinnie was between jobs and he seemed almost aimless, a little lost perhaps. And maybe unsure?

It was easier to face all this long-distance. You didn’t have the other person intently watching you with great expectations or anything.

Trying to be solicitous, Sonny turned to him and said, “Well, I promised McPike I’d take care of you. Let’s get you settled.”

Vinnie took a step back, grimacing. “I don’t want to get ‘settled’.”

Sonny tried to keep from laughing. “Yeah. Okay. I’m an idiot.” He watched the other man, trying not to notice how goddamn gorgeous he looked all frustrated and nervous, his eyes glimmering, his mouth taut, a muscle jerking against his jawline. His hair was damp with melted snow, the dark bangs usually combed back now heavy over his broad forehead.

Sonny wanted to grab him hard, but held off. They were a lot more alike, Sonny realized, than he’d ever believed. Like him, Vinnie was a fixer, too. He always wanted to make sure everything was just right. If it wasn’t, he’d move mountains to make it so. But there was nothing to fix right now. Just the two of them. Alone. Together.

Vinnie looked at Sonny, his eyes hardening a little. “You never ate,” he stated almost accusingly, as if that small detail had just occurred to him and was tilting his world even more off-kilter.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Sonny replied calmly.

Vinnie looked down, fingering the white silk scarf under his leather jacket. “It’s cold in here,” he stated, not so accusingly this time. He just sounded defeated. Almost like that time Vinnie had looked at him so forlorn, so scared when he was packing and about to leave after Sid had accused him of being a cop. Vinnie had glanced up at him with such a look. Had those been actual tears? Or had it been the OCB agent weaseling his way out of another fuck up? Vinnie’s voice had even been choked up when he said softly to Sonny, “Sid’s gonna come down on me real hard. You gotta keep me alive, Sonny.” Christ! Sonny had fallen for that act all the way.

Without replying, Sonny moved past him to the wall and turned up the thermostat. Then Sonny came up beside him, put his hand on Vinnie’s arm and said very softly, “Hey crazy boy, you wanna go somewhere else?”

Vinnie’s eyes moved to meet his. And Sonny saw the familiar gleam in them he loved so much. This was the “real” Vinnie. Slowly, Vinnie shook his head. “No,” he said flatly. Then he gritted his teeth and said almost sarcastically, “It’s just that your place is so clean. Almost too clean. I feel like I mess it up…”

Sonny reached around him, pulling him into a loose embrace. He noted that Vinnie let him. He didn’t tense, either. Sonny said softly into his ear, “You decorate it perfectly.”

Vinnie looked like he was suppressing a smile.

“What’s the matter? Huh?” He thought again of their favorite drinking song. Everybody’s hands are in their pockets… “You want roses? A box of chocolates?”

Vinnie reached forward, his arms going around Sonny’s waist. He put his cheek against Sonny’s cheek and pressed lightly. “Hell, yeah.”

But there wasn’t a chance to discuss it further, because suddenly they were kissing like mad.

They almost tripped going down the hall. In fact, it would’ve been easier and smoother if the bed had been only about ten feet from the door. But they weren’t disappointed when they finally sank into it.

It had been so long. Sonny had dreamed incessantly about the day he’d have Vinnie here in his bed again. And now it was happening.

Sonny pushed Vinnie’s black leather jacket off his shoulders, hoping he didn’t hurt him in the process. But Vinnie didn’t seem hurt at all, and Sonny went for the long-sleeved white cotton shirt next, pulling it up past Vinnie’s head, taking the white silk scarf with it. He ran his hands up Vinnie’s ribs, the olive skin all edges and soft at the same time, different from a woman’s only in the strength and muscle, but the smoothness was the same. No… it was better. It was better because it was Vinnie. And he wanted Vinnie and no one else…had been wanting him for three months straight. And if you counted the time before Vinnie ran out on him in the middle of the night, he realized he’d been wanting him for quite some time before that but not allowing himself to even think it. Why else had he gotten so pissed off when Vinnie had first kissed him?

Vinnie was pushing at Sonny’s sweater, then pulling it off his head and tossing it. Sonny was on top of him now, and he felt Vinnie’s arms tighten around him and nothing could’ve been better than that. He reached up with one hand and touched the side of Vinnie’s head. He loved that thick glossy hair. He’d never forgotten how it had driven Vinnie crazy the first time he ran his fingers through it. So he did it again, now, and Vinnie made an inarticulate sound against Sonny’s mouth, then pushed up and toppled Sonny over until he was on top. Sonny used that opportunity to move his arms down around Vinnie’s waist and push his hands inside the back of Vinnie’s jeans.

Vinnie let up on him, almost sitting up. He was smiling as he reached down and undid his own buttons. Sonny pushed the jeans down and Vinnie kicked them away. And Vinnie was so gorgeous he just wanted to touch him everywhere at once. Now Vinnie worked on Sonny’s trousers, and moved to the side to get them off.

Then they pressed together and for Sonny everything was just right. He wanted more, but this was perfect for now.

 

Vinnie moved against Sonny feeling so aroused that any touch might set him off. It felt so good, so natural. With Sonny he forgot his momentary lapse in the foyer of feeling like a fool. If he had the jitters before, they were gone. His trembling was for a different reason now. Sonny’s flat stomach felt so good against him. They were both wonderfully excited. And he thought it sure didn’t take much. When either of them went for something, they both went full bore.

For a long time they just kissed, barely stopping long enough to breathe, then back at it again. Kissing Sonny was like…was like nothing he’d experienced before. Sonny was a good kisser but it wasn’t just that. He’d simply never felt this way before about just kissing someone. Like he was hanging onto a big kite that the wind was trying to pull out of his hands and instead of letting go he held tighter and the wind picked him up and tossed him and if he let go he’d fall.

Finally he pulled back, half gasping, half whispering to himself: “Oh god.”

Sonny murmured in his ear, “We keep each other alive.”

For a second, Vinnie tried to remember when Sonny had said that before. When he did, remembering how Sid had accused him of being a cop and he’d almost left, he pushed his face into Sonny’s neck clutching him tighter, wincing and smiling at the same time. One of Sonny’s hands moved languidly up and down his back. He’d almost died that day. By Sonny’s own hand. Or had he? Would Sonny have actually done it?

How many bodies had been buried out on that turnpike? How many had they buried together?

He felt Sonny kiss him on the jaw, then on the neck. Sonny reached between them and gently took hold of him, like last time when he couldn’t hold back, when he lost it completely. Only this time Sonny was on his back and Vinnie was propped over him. Vinnie pulled back from the silken kisses Sonny was trailing along his throat. He said softly, pushing at Sonny’s hand, “Wait.” Sonny stopped stroking him for a moment and Vinnie reached for Sonny, kissing him softly on both cheeks, then on his lips, licking delicately at the lower lip and then trapping it between his own. Then he pulled back again. He groped between them grasping Sonny’s hardness, then moved down and licked the head of Sonny’s cock lightly over and over.

Sonny shuddered “Jesus!” and Vinnie felt him as he tried not to thrust right up into his face. But Sonny lost that battle.

Vinnie opened his mouth and accepted him. It was something he’d been thinking about doing for awhile now, almost three months and counting, wanting Sonny in every way possible. He knew what he had always liked, but he also knew what more to do to make things even better. Research libraries were good for some things.

When Sonny came, he cried out several times. The orgasm seemed to shoot through him and last a very long time. Vinnie held him tight, then moved up and kissed him more, for a long time again, ignoring Sonny’s struggles to breathe.

Finally, Sonny pulled back and said, “Jesus, I thought you were inexperienced….”

Vinnie chuckled. “I haven’t done this before, you moron. But it turns out they do have manuals for this type of stuff. Just not taught by the OCB.”

Sonny grabbed a pillow and hit him, then started laughing uncontrollably.

They both fell to the side, chuckling. When the amusement subsided, Vinnie pushed himself against Sonny, who very much noticed, and said, “Sonny, I want everything with you. I want a future.”

Sonny pushed him down almost roughly, hands running up and down his chest. “What about right now, Terranova? What do ya want right now?”

“Hmmm…,” Vinnie said as Sonny’s mouth collided with his.

 

Vinnie’s skin turned brown as fall leaves on their vacation; Sonny’s became more coppery. Every morning Vinnie would stretch out his shoulder by doing specific strengthening exercises with Sonny’s help. Then they would swim, and take long walks on the beach. Very often they went back to bed during the afternoons. They were both quick studies, and making love was something they were very good at, so the bed was hard to resist.

Now that he had the time, Sonny noticed things more these days. Changes in both of them. Vinnie had lost that desperate look that he’d had since Sonny had met him. And Sonny felt a kind of wholeness he’d never known. When he thought of Atlantic City and his hotel and casino, he was still proud, but when his mind wandered over all the guys who worked for him in the underworld, all the hidden businesses and secret meetings and bodies buried past the turnpike, he wanted to hit the shower wall again to keep his hands from shaking. He wanted to turn away into the shadows and keep walking, his collar up against that wind. It was Vinnie’s influence, he knew. And sometimes he wanted to turn his back on him, too, but never for long. The feeling would pass in a matter of seconds. One look at that tall, dark frame, those blue eyes, that face that had refused to succumb to the hard edges of the streets and still looked, to Sonny, far too angelic, and he had no choice in the matter. He’d break down walls, climb mountains to get to him.

Other changes he noticed: Neither of them talked too much about work, but when they did it was relaxed and easy. They didn’t once begrudge each other’s worlds. Which was strange in itself since they were on such different sides. They should have been mortal enemies, no matter what.

Sonny still couldn’t quite figure it out. There they would be, sitting side by side on the suite’s living room couch, each of them able to destroy the other utterly with one phone call, one called-in favor, and it was like none of that mattered, or even existed.

When Sonny got sober and contemplative, when he “noticed” things, he would get quiet. Then Vinnie would kick him lightly in the shin and say, “What’s up, sportshoes?” and they’d both start laughing hard enough to spill their drinks.

It really was an odd and wonderful thing, this journey he was taking with Vincent Terranova.

 

Vinnie fell back on the bed in just his white swim shorts, glistening, tan, and lethargic from too much sun. They had just come in from the beach. Sonny had gotten them iced tea from the kitchen, came in and set the glasses down on the table. Vinnie’s eyes were closed. He was breathing deep and relaxed. The scar on his shoulder barely showed anymore. His dark hair, a little longer now, was thick and tousled, still a little damp from sweat at the nape of his neck.

They had lain on the beach for at least an hour, probably more, soaking up heat and ocean calm, letting sand fall through their fingers, letting time go astray without a care.

Sonny stared at him now, the white bed, the curtains at the far window fluttering slightly in a low, salty sea breeze. His breath caught as Vinnie, without opening his eyes, shifted a little, his hand coming up and resting on top of the white trunks, his pinky and his ring finger pushing about an inch under the elastic waistband, moving back and forth just barely as if to scratch at his abdomen..

Sonny felt weirdly breathless. He blinked, blinked again. It was damned hard to think around this guy.

The ice in the tea settled with a soft sloshy clink. Sonny looked at the table, the drinks, then walked quietly over to it and grabbed the suntan lotion Vinnie had tossed there. He went to the bed, kneeling beside him, and said, “Let me do your back.”

Vinnie opened one eye and said, “I’m not in the sun anymore.”

“Who cares.” It wasn’t a question. So Vinnie rolled over on his stomach.

Vinnie’s back was warm, the muscles pliant. Sonny massaged him for a long time, paying careful attention to the almost healed shoulder, before he moved lower. By now Vinnie’s trunks were gone. Vinnie didn’t tense or protest. In fact, he seemed perfectly content as Sonny’s hands caressed him, as Sonny lay down beside him and kissed his neck, as he moved one finger into him slowly. They hadn’t gone this far before but Vinnie didn’t say anything and Sonny kept slowly massaging, making circles on Vinnie’s lower back, then delving into him, two slick fingers going deeper as Vinnie turned his head and they kissed long and deep.

They had not talked about this, but it was like an unspoken agreement that this moment could happen.

Finally, Vinnie made a sound. A good sound. Almost like a laugh. Then he turned, bending his knees, drawing one leg forward and up, and sat up. One hand reached out and touched the side of Sonny’s face. He leaned down and kissed him, pulled back, and gave him a sly look, which for Vinnie seemed to be a combination of the old “I have a secret, you can’t catch me” mixed with “Let’s go get into some trouble.” He made a fist with his right hand, and then said, nonchalantly, “Rock, paper, scissors.”

Sonny shook his head, his hand caressing Vinnie’s naked hip, pressed his lips tight to keep from laughing, said, “My whole body’s paper. I cover you.”

“Hmm.” Vinnie’s eyelids half closed, his teeth caught the side of his lower lip, then he grabbed a pillow and lay back lazily against the snow white sheets, all lean and sun-baked and aroused and slightly sleepy. Vinnie grasped himself, almost innocently, stroked himself twice and let go. Then he drew his knees slightly up and spread his legs.

Sonny couldn’t breathe. Vinnie was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

 

Vinnie half-opened his eyes when Sonny knelt between his legs and bent forward, his hands on either side of Vinnie’s shoulders.

Sonny’s eyes were almost black, his face soft. There was no streetwise, wiseguy edge there at the moment, just the neighborhood boy his mom had given him permission to play with. Well, maybe she hadn’t given him permission for this kind of play….

Sonny looked fantastic, all coppery and firm from daily swims for two weeks straight. Now he leaned down and kissed Vinnie. Vinnie’s arms came up to touch his shoulders. He felt Sonny’s erection press his thigh. He arched his back to bring them into closer contact. Maybe he could change his mind still, and they could just fool around. That’d be fun.

Sonny pulled back, shook his head once, smiling. Vinnie reached up to pull him down, starting to grin, but Sonny put one hand on his chest. “Lie back.”

Vinnie sank back into the pillows. At those two words he felt that familiar tremor of longing in his stomach. The feeling had already been awakened, but now it roared to life. It was a feeling he got often when his mind would wander over any memory he had of him and Sonny together. It was like a hollowness inside him edged with hunger. The hunger was almost furious, not for food but for some kind of touch or sensation that went beyond even the physical. But it was a physical response that resulted. His breath caught. His body arched again. If his mind had any apprehension, his body sure didn’t.

Sonny ran his hands over Vinnie’s chest and stomach. “Lie still,” he whispered. “Just relax.”

Sonny touched him everywhere. It didn’t take much to make him feel like he’d gone completely crazy. He kept reaching for Sonny, thinking about finishing things before they really got started, thinking about maybe putting this off. Because even if he acted sure, he wasn’t quite sure. But Sonny would pull back and start stroking him again, all over, maddeningly slow. His fingers were inside Vinnie again as he kissed him deep. Once, when Vinnie jerked and arched in a weird kind of shocked pleasure, Sonny whispered, “Hey. I’ve got you. Okay?” all while Vinnie was floating in a kind of desperate need, and he remembered a strange dream he’d had once, a couple days after Sonny had taken him for that three o’clock ride. In the dream he woke up in his bed in the suite and he heard Sonny’s voice underneath. The voice had almost the same kind of sure and measured tone. “Hey! Vinnie! Over here!” And Vinnie had thought, in the dream, how odd that Sonny was under his bed.

But Sonny wasn’t under the bed now. He was on it with him. And Vinnie wasn’t dreaming. He was going crazy. But he wasn’t dreaming.

Sonny’s fingers were doing things to him that felt really good. Really really good. He wanted to tell Sonny that, but all he could do was moan softly, or sigh heavily. His breathing was definitely affected.

He realized his eyes kept closing, tight. He wanted….he wanted Sonny. He wanted…he wanted….

He couldn’t say it. But he wanted to say it. Take me. But never before Sonny had he ever thought he’d want another man to do that to him, let alone beg for it. He loved Sonny more than words could say, and he did want this, but at the same time he kept thinking about how this act could be such an abomination, this act which he’d only ever witnessed performed through violence in prison amidst pain filled yells and sobs. He knew he was wrong in his thinking, that this was nothing like that, could never be. And he had known for the past weeks that he’d wanted everything with Sonny eventually. Everything. But still the conditioning was strong… That fucking Italian macho image. He wanted to yell. But everything was so relaxed, and he couldn’t get a deep enough breath, and he felt like he was literally melting all over the sheets. Then he realized something very smooth and very slippery had been put on him and a subtle scent of something sweet wafted over him. Sonny’s hand was there, caressing him intimately, and everything was slick and cool and goddamn but it wasn’t suntan lotion anymore. Where had he…?

He didn’t have time to finish thinking the question. Sonny leaned over him, hands on either side of him, and kissed him warmly. When he pulled away again, Vinnie gasped in frustration and found his voice. He said, fiercely, “Don’t fuckin’ pull away!”

And Sonny chuckled a little. “Won’t help if you get all pissed off, baby.”

Vinnie felt his eyes roll up. “Uh…God!” He exhaled hard. Sonny was making him nuts.

Softly, Sonny said, breath caressing his face, “Ya gotta want me. You want me?”

Strangely, Vinnie felt his throat tighten. What was happening to him? He felt so loose and liquid but hard and wanting at the same time. He wanted to come but he couldn’t even do that. Sonny wouldn’t let him. But Sonny would let him if he demanded, if he insisted. Sonny gave him anything he wanted. Always.

Vinnie reached up, grabbing him tight about the shoulders. “Please…” It came out almost a sob through his tight throat, his swollen lips. His face and body felt so hot. He couldn’t stand it. So he added, for emphasis, “Damn you.”

Maybe it had been what he was waiting for…for Vinnie to demand it. Because then, without anymore hesitation, Sonny was suddenly pushing slowly into him, into his heat, giving him exactly what he’d just asked for, and Vinnie shuddered because it was so different, so new, so strange. His instinct was to scoot back, push himself away, run, but then Sonny murmured, “Vincenzo,” in such a reverent tone, and then whispered something about him being so fucking beautiful, and it was so good, it felt so incredible as he thought: It’s Sonny. It’s Sonny wanting me, Sonny inside me. And suddenly he was overflowing with a kind of ecstatic devotion he’d never known.

He grabbed hard at Sonny’s shoulders, thinking maybe he’d clawed them a little, but not really thinking about it…who could think now? And Sonny was moving, saying something inarticulate, and Vinnie’s breath caught and he thought he’d never breathe again because there was that wind again, but no kite, and Vinnie was flying and Sonny was holding onto him and Vinnie grabbed his hips and pulled him closer and whispered what he’d never ever dreamed he might say to another man, “Harder, dammit,” and Sonny’s forehead grazed his shoulder, then Sonny lifted up, kneeling now, and pushed back into him as Vinnie arched up. His legs clamped around Sonny’s waist as Sonny grabbed Vinnie’s hips and pulled him up onto his thighs like Vinnie was sitting on his lap and pushed in deeper. Vinnie reached up and Sonny grabbed his upper arms and pulled him up, gathering him to him. And then Vinnie was sitting up on Sonny rocking in Sonny’s arms, kissing him, then turning away into his shoulder in unbearable pleasure as whatever Sonny was doing stimulated something inside him beyond description and he thought he heard himself cussing or swearing or something truly awful because he was falling apart and he literally thought he was going to die. “Jesus, Sonny! That feels so good!” He grabbed him hard and held on for dear life. He knew…he just knew there were going to be pieces of him all over this room. Then Sonny reached between them and touched him and his hand was still slick and Vinnie’s head fell back and his body went taut and he let go of Sonny but Sonny held onto him with one strong arm wrapped tight around his back and the biggest wave he’d ever felt washed over him and spun him in tight circles and his whole body convulsed and tingled as if he’d been electrically shocked. But it was all good. There was no pain at all. Only ecstasy and more ecstasy until he was no longer Vinnie Terranova but something else altogether, another universe maybe on the other side of time, whole and perfect and joyfully colliding with its twin. He thought he heard himself wordlessly crying out; then he must’ve started sobbing because he had lost all control now, and the wave came again and again and wouldn’t let him go and he didn’t want it to let go but he was feeling a little oxygen deprived, and somewhere faraway Sonny was desperately calling for him, calling his name, calling it out over and over in a voice broken by cataclysmic pleasure. “Vinnie! Vincenzo!”

Somehow Vinnie had fallen back on the bed, writhing, and taken Sonny with him. Now Sonny was collapsed on top of him, his forehead pressed into his neck, and Vinnie was holding him tight, feeling him shaking, feeling his heart beating against his chest. They were both breathing so hard it was almost a contest to see who was in more peril.

Finally, Vinnie could think again. He held Sonny tight, stroking his back, then said, under his breath, “Fuck! Nothing will ever be the same.”

Abruptly, Sonny started to laugh.

So Vinnie started laughing, too, and said, “What the fuck did we just do?”

Sonny replied, without moving, “Who, us? We didn’t do anything.”

Which sent Vinnie off into more choking laughter, and it was about a minute before either of them could catch their breaths again.

Sonny rolled partway off him. His free hand came up and caressed the side of Vinnie’s face. Sonny’s fingers felt slippery and that was when Vinnie realized his face was wet. Saying nothing about it, Sonny let his fingers comb back through his hair and he kissed him softly; it was like velvet brushing his mouth, caressing, then opening to him, and Vinnie felt that wind again shaking his thoughts down, spinning him.

Sonny pulled back a little and Vinnie thought again about Sonny being the paper, and he said, “You cheated.”

Sonny frowned.

“Next time we play the game for real. Rock. Paper. Scissors.”

“I won’t play that game with you. You always win.”

Vinnie said quietly, “I won this time, too.” And he shivered slightly, because there was still an echoing friction of when Sonny was inside him, and he’d never felt anything quite so incredible in his life.

Sonny said nothing. His eyes closed tightly, then opened. The longing in his face was like a dark road Vinnie was looking down. He couldn’t see the end, but he saw the fields and stars and Sonny in a tux smiling at him, beckoning him.

Vinnie said, “Yes.”

Sonny said, “What?”

“Yes,” Vinnie repeated. “To whatever you were thinking.”

Sonny grinned suddenly. “Well, I am hungry.”

“Me, too. But damn you, it’s all your fault; now I need a shower.”

“Me, too.” Sonny sat up. “Well, that’s one way to kill a Saturday afternoon.”

“I think it’s Thursday.”

“Who cares?”

 

It was only four o’clock when they went downstairs for dinner, but they were both famished. After they ate, they were still keyed up, so they explored the gym they’d never seen yet and found, just outside the door, a handball court. They threw the ball around for awhile, but they weren’t hitting it much because they kept tackling each other to keep the other from getting to it. They ended up in contact with each other more than the ball, which often lay lonely and ignored at their feet until they picked it up again, and threw it, only to laughingly wrestle each other out of the way again so neither one could get to it.

Later, they sat on wicker chairs and watched some island show with a lot of grass skirts and drums and guys with shells or shark’s teeth or something like that around their necks.

Sonny said, loudly, to be heard over the drums, “You like the blonde, huh?”

Vinnie frowned, looking at the hula girls, and thought, There’s a blonde one? Out loud, he said, “I think you’re the one who likes her.”

Sonny said, “I prefer brunets,” and winked at him.

“Yeah well, me, too.” He bumped Sonny’s knee with his knee. Then he said, “Quit winking at me.”

Sonny laughed as he stood up. Then he wandered away. A minute later he came back with two Coronas, a lime wedge attached to the lip of each bottle. He handed one to Vinnie.

“What a racket,” Vinnie said as Sonny sat back down. But the drums were beating in his blood like no one’s business, beating through his entire body until he didn’t want to sit still anymore.

They wandered off down to the beach again. At night it was so different. The moon’s light fractured across the sea. The tide lapped at the shore, and the beach looked slick and mirror-like. It was low tide, so they could walk pretty far toward the water before they reached it. The sand was smooth and wet. The cool air was relaxing, a slight breeze blowing against their faces. They weren’t saying much, but every time one of them spoke, they laughed no matter what was said.

On the way into the hotel, Vinnie suddenly jumped up, raised his arm and banged the top of the doorframe with an open hand. He turned around to Sonny. “How high can you jump?”

Sonny chuckled. “Is this a contest?”

“Isn’t everything?” They moved aside so a group of laughing people could exit.

“Everything used to be for me,” Sonny said.

Impulsively, Vinnie grabbed his arm and pulled him into the thick shadows along the wall. Then he put both hands alongside Sonny’s face and kissed him. He whispered, feeling a tremor in his chest, “Do you know how much I love you?”

 

They were set to leave in four days, and Vinnie had a new job lined up. It would take him to Texas, which he told Sonny irritated him, but Sonny assured him Texas wasn’t that far by jet.

“But I probably won’t be able to get away much,” Vinnie complained. He was sitting on their hotel balcony. Sonny had gone in to get the pitcher of orange juice. Breakfast had been piles of French toast and bacon.

Sonny poured a glass for Vinnie and handed it to him. He said nothing. He poured his own glass, then sat down and looked at him. Vinnie was leaning forward on his chair, sitting on it backwards. His forearms rested on the chair back. His hair glowed thick and full in the southern sunlight. East coast winter was far away, and they were warm and sated and safe for now. But they were both also apprehensive. It was the damned logistics again.

There was a long silence. Then Vinnie said, “What if….”

“Shhh!” Sonny interrupted. Their eyes met. Sonny winced at him. Shut up, was what he knew his look said. Vinnie sighed heavily. But he kept quiet.

The waves crashed on the beach. The gulls called out in forlorn tones. The scents of sea salt and brine and fresh flowers filled the air around the balcony.

Abruptly, Sonny finally said, “Why do we have to do anything?”

Vinnie’s brows narrowed in question.

Sonny frowned back. He couldn’t find words to express all that suddenly went through his head mixing it up, shredding his heart: their first time together in Sonny’s penthouse, Vinnie calling him “pure,” then Vinnie here in the Bahamas for Christmas all sun-baked on the white sheets, then the man dying while his bodyguards held him down, the destroyed evidence, the unmarked cars, the cops on his tail…even Vinnie had been after him for all those months….

He had been a total asshole and he would be again. It was in his blood. It was how he was trained. He loved running the casino. He loved being busy, the dramas of the dark side, how he had earned the respect of men who respected very little in this world. How he could pay to have anything…anything at all done for him, taken care of for him…it was like a drug.

But there was one thing his money couldn’t buy.

He looked at Vinnie. He felt a strange turning in his gut, a knotted thing inside him, something he couldn’t define. His eyes grew hot. He shook his head as if his thoughts were gnats he could scare off with the gesture. Dammit, they should never have met. He said, “Why?”

Vinnie said softly, tipping forward on his chair, “Why what?”

Four days. That was all that was left. And then Sonny couldn’t look at him anymore. He reached out and backhanded his orange juice glass. It went flying through the air and hit the half-wall of the balcony, shattering.

Sonny got up and went back into the hotel room.

 

Vinnie turned, looking at the broken glass, then got up and put his hands on the edge of the balcony wall and stared at the blue sea for a few minutes, trying to take in the serenity, make it a part of him. After awhile he went inside and heard the shower running. But Sonny had already had a shower this morning. So he went into the bathroom without knocking and stood beside the curtain. “You okay?” he asked.

Then he heard something pound the wall twice, and Sonny yelled, “Ow, dammit!”

Vinnie pulled the curtain back a little and saw him standing there in steaming water, his knuckles bleeding. And he was still dressed in his white linen pants and black tank.

Water poured over his head, drenching him until he looked like some pathetic refugee standing in the rain, hair plastered to his forehead and ears.

“What are you doing?” Vinnie reached out thinking to turn off the water, help him out of there, but Sonny grabbed his hand and pulled him into the tub with him, then put his arms around him. Vinnie was already drenched now, his jeans, his blue t-shirt, but he didn’t care. Sonny was shaking, so he just stood there and let the steamy water pour over both of them. Sonny’s head bowed into his neck.

In his ear, Sonny’s voice finally said, “I don’t know what to do.”

Vinnie said, stroking his back, “Just breathe.”

 

Vinnie could feel Frank watching him and he turned and met his gaze straight on without flinching. In the past year, Frank’s strange, almost fatherly harshness had made Vinnie feel younger than his years, and sometimes even stupid. But now he was used to it, and he could push back at Frank without the feeling that he might lose his job at any moment, without worrying about any consequences. Because after what Frank had put him and Sonny through, Vinnie was damned if he was going to give him the upper hand in their dealings anymore.

At the same time, he loved Frank more than ever. What Frank had done for him at the safe house and then during the debriefing…that was the stuff of a solid friendship.

They stared for a moment, Vinnie still holding the paperwork for the new case he’d just finished studying. Finally he held it out to Frank. “I have it practically memorized,” he said.

Frank nodded. “So you haven’t said anything about how your vacation was.”

Vinnie said, still carefully watching Frank’s eyes behind those thick, round glasses, “It was great.” He tried not to smile. Even though the job aspects of his life had been settled, and Frank had accepted him back into the fold despite his on-going ‘illicit’ affair with Sonny, he still wasn’t convinced Frank was okay about it all. In fact, he was sure of it. Frank did not approve of this at all. And it was not going to change.

Frank said gruffly, “Glad you had a good time.”

“Right,” Vinnie said, rolling his eyes, a half-smile on his lips.

Frank got that overly dramatic fake look of hurt on his face. “Hey, I want you to be happy, Vince.” Then he scowled. Kind of like Sonny’s scowls when he was being sarcastic. Now Vinnie laughed. If Frank knew that he’d compared that look on his face to Sonny, he’d have a fit. For that matter, so would Sonny.

“Yeah, Frank, I know. You’re all about my happiness.”

“Yeah, blah blah blah.” Frank wrinkled his nose. Then he tilted his head. “Well, you seem healthier now.”

Vinnie nodded. “I am. What? Did you think I’d come back all black and blue?” He tried not to laugh again.

Frank shook his head. “I just worry, is all.”

“But it’s not a job anymore. Not with him. You know that.” Vinnie deliberately did not say Sonny’s name. His instinct told him that one name was like a button with Frank. It was safer to say “him” or “he” or just allude to what they were talking about and not come outright and say those horrible words: “Sonny fucking Steelgrave.”

“But… Vince….” Frank stopped. He turned away now. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Vinnie walked over to him. He stood next to him and said, quietly, “Just ask me. What do you want to know?”

Frank crossed his arms, turned and met his stare. “What if he gets pissed at you and then he’s done with you? What happens when he doesn’t trust you anymore? What happens if you and he no longer see eye to eye and you have all the goods on him? You’re dead, Vince.”

Vinnie frowned. “What’s this about?”

Frank turned away.

“Frank, it’s not like that.”

“Yeah, you’re still so young.”

“Frank, it’s not. And I’m not the vengeful type.”

“The hell you’re not. He is. You are. Both alike in that way.”

Vinnie shook his head. “This isn’t….casual.”

“It wasn’t when I married my wife, either.”

Now Vinnie could see what Frank was dealing with. Personal problems. Vinnie had suspected Frank’s personal life wasn’t all that peachy for a long time, but Frank never complained and Vinnie felt awkward ever trying to ask him about it. Vinnie said, “I’m sorry, Frank.”

“Yeah, well, people change. Then they find themselves doing things they never thought they would.”

“I know,” Vinnie said. “But are you supposed to just shut off everything you feel because some day things might not work out? Are you supposed to never get married because you’re terrified of divorce?”

“Maybe.”

“I can’t live my life that way. I’m 30. I’ve been alone too long. Then someone comes along who thinks I fucking walk on water despite the fact that I could destroy him at a moment’s notice, and he treats me like… like gold. And I didn’t get to plan ahead for this, I didn’t get to vote about it being black hat/white hat, race, creed, gender. And I know you hate him, but what am I supposed to do when I can’t think about anything else?” It was the closest he could come to admitting to Frank that he was so fucking head over heels in love he could barely see. He felt his heart rate increase. Was he really saying these things? To Frank?

Frank just nodded. “I know.”

“Frank, I’m sorry about all this, about Jenny. I really am.”

Frank sort of glared at him as he confessed, “I might be moving out. I’m not sure yet.”

“You’re welcome to my place if you need it.”

“Yeah, well, c’mon, kid. Let’s go upstairs and brief Daryl. Then we have a plane to catch.”

And that was it. Frank was done. There was no more to be said until or if Frank ever brought it up again. But at least now Vinnie knew a little more. Frank might despise Sonny, hate him more than he hated brussel sprouts, but what was really going on was his own marriage was failing, and the only other person in his life he had any connection to other than his son was Vinnie. That protective instinct of Frank’s emerged. Nothing to be done about it, it was just the way Frank loved.

Vinnie followed him into the hall. His smile was bittersweet.

 

Texas was a lot of nothing on top of more nothing, but oil was big there and Vinnie was getting in tight with the people he was supposed to spy on.

It was three weeks of intermittent phone calls before he could finally tell Sonny where and when to meet him… for only one night. He felt desperately lonely. He couldn’t even define, or measure, how badly he wanted Sonny. Three weeks was too long. Just too damn long!

Sonny knocked on the hotel room door even though Vinnie had told him he’d left him a key at the front desk under a fake name.

Slightly irritated, Vinnie opened the door, took one look, and said, “Ah hell get in here,” grabbing him and pulling him inside. His body went into a kind of frenzied, shocking arousal at the sight of his lover. And Sonny had done this on purpose. After Vinnie had his way with him, he was gonna kill him!

Sonny wore head to toe Armani. A new one. Reflective gray. His tie was raw brushed silk with about ten colors in it depending on how it hit the light. His shirt was starch white. The handkerchief in the jacket pocket was a dark blue to match the silk scarf under his suit jacket. The shoes were polished to a high shine and very black. In Sonny’s hand was a single rose.

Vinnie grabbed the rose and threw it aside. He thought he heard Sonny mumble, “Crazy boy.” Then Vinnie kissed him, touching Sonny all over, with the suit on, before leading him to the bed. “It’s a shame to take it off you,” he said.

Sonny laughed and turned out the lamp. “Then don’t. We’ll work around it.”

And they did work around it. But still, a couple hours later, the suit worth a small fortune was in a pile on the floor.

 

Frank was supposed to meet Vince at a diner down the street from the hotel. He knew Vince had gone off for the night, and he knew who he was meeting. It wasn’t hard to figure it out…not that he was spying. Vince had said nothing about it. But they had needed to meet anyway for Vince’s new report which he’d called Lifeguard about, and this diner in this nearby town was as secure a place as any, Vince had said. So Frank suspected the close proximity to the hotel was just convenient for Vince. And he’d been right.

Sitting inside his car at the curb, he watched them come out of the hotel entrance together. Vince was wearing a nice black suit for the job but Sonny was outrageously ostentatious in flashing gray silk. “Thug,” Frank muttered under his breath.

Vince was talking, using his hands to illustrate something and Sonny was laughing as he unlocked his rental Corvette. Now Vince had that familiar look he got sometimes, as if his mom had just told him he couldn’t have dessert. Sonny reached out and touched him on the arm. Frank started to roll his eyes but it turned into a scowl when he saw them embrace just a little too enthusiastically, a little too tight.

“Guys,” he muttered, “This is Texas. They don’t take kindly to that here.” He paused, still watching. “Unless maybe you’re in Austin,” he said a little louder when they didn’t break apart. “Which you’re not!!!” He yelled, but the windows were up and he knew no one heard.

Well, at least they didn’t kiss.

Frank sighed loudly as Sonny got into the Corvette and drove away. Vince went to his car, threw a small pack in the back, and got in.

Frank pulled away from the curb and got to the diner first. He was just sitting down when Vince strolled in, shoulders hunched a little, his black suit only slightly rumpled. Other than that, he looked fresh, clean, even sparkly. And he smelled good. He met Frank’s eyes, gave a curt smile, and sat down.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Vince said, “Yeah, so have you ordered yet?”

“I just got here.”

The waitress came, delivering water, and took their drink order. Vince grabbed his water glass and downed the whole thing in about five seconds.

Frank pushed his glass toward him. “You can have mine. I’ll wait for my iced tea.”

“Thanks.”

“So the case is going well,” Frank said, watching him.

“Yeah.” Vince glanced out the window.

“What?”

Vince did not look at him. “Nothin’.”

“It’s going really well, Vince.” But he knew he wasn’t being heard. He repeated. “Really well.”

Vince just nodded.

“Earth to Vince.”

Vince reached into his jacket pocket and took out a notebook. “I got all the information you were asking for.” He pushed the small notebook across the table to Frank. “I’m sure there’s more. I’m not having any problems.”

“All right then.”

The waitress came back, called them both “hon,” and they ordered their food. Vince ordered a double Angus burger with cheese, double fries. Frank had a salad, with vinaigrette. He was going to say the food would kill Vince, if not now then eventually, but he kept his mouth shut. When you were young and in love you tended to burn it all off anyway.

Frank let the silence become only slightly awkward before he said, “So what else is going on?”

Vince looked up sharply from his iced tea, which was almost half gone now. “Not much. I don’t think I like Texas though, despite the charming southern manners.”

“Yeah, well this is where the oil barons live, sportshoes.”

Vince smiled. Then sighed heavily. He reached for another sugar for his iced tea and Frank saw the Rolex on his wrist.

Frank frowned. Since before Vince had left Steelgrave in the middle of the night, he’d not seen it. He pointed. “That’s not from the old days, is it?”

Vince opened his sugar casually, pouring the white powder into his drink, stirring it with the straw. He sipped his tea, looking at Frank, but said nothing.

“You turned everything in, right?”

He nodded.

“So?”

Vince shrugged.

Frank sighed. “Hand it over.”

Vince’s eyes hardened. “It goes with the cover.” His voice was low, but had a bit of a hiss to it. “And I didn’t turn it in because I didn’t have it. It was one of the things I left behind.”

“Okay,” Frank said, backing off. “I hope this doesn’t get more and more complicated.”

“I gave it back, Frank.”

“I said okay.”

“He kept it for me. I didn’t ask for it back, but….”

Frank interrupted him. “What else should I know about?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, Vince. It’s gonna be hard to keep all this straight. It can look like you’re taking bribes.”

Vince chewed on his lower lip. The waitress delivered their food.

When she left, Vince said, “So I shouldn’t receive any gifts? Like trips to the Bahamas?” He reached for the ketchup.

“It gets dicey.”

Vince looked put out. “What if I paid for everything?”

Frank sighed. It wouldn’t happen. Sonny would find ways to pay him back. Sonny had showered Vince with gifts from the beginning, which had unnerved Frank more than he’d ever said. Sonny was still doing it. He wouldn’t change even if told by God himself to stop.

“What else do I got to spend my paycheck on?”

“Vince, I’m not saying….”

Vince interrupted him. “I got one last official check from him for my work there. I tore it up.”

“See? That’s not being upfront. You should have turned that in.”

“I know, but Son… he put it in an account anyway. For me. It’s hidden, probably Switzerland or somewhere, but I can’t get him to undo it.”

“How much?”

“A lot.” Vince shrugged.

“Jesus, Vince, what am I gonna do with you?”

Vince just smiled sheepishly. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Yeah,” Frank drawled, giving up for now. “I guess we will. Well, sport, dig in. You must be starved.”

Vince shot him an accusing look, then smiled. And for the first time since sitting down, the smile actually reflected in his soft, blue eyes.

 

Vinnie should have known Frank had been watching him since before he came to the diner. For how long, he wasn’t sure, but obviously Frank had seen him come out of the hotel with Sonny. But his mind was on other things, so it had never occurred to him until now. That was why he was surprised when Frank made the comment about him being starved.

Yeah, well, being up half the night involved in a new favorite hobby would do that to a guy. He was famished despite having breakfast only a few hours earlier with Sonny.

He could not get over how good and attentive of a lover Sonny was. And he’d never laughed so much in bed with anyone. Or just talked. They had such a good time. He had thought, that first time in the penthouse, that Sonny might be more crude, or exceedingly rough, or selfish. Now he wondered why he’d ever thought that. The guy had, from the beginning, only given him everything he could. Everything.

Why should this be any different?

But being considerate in bed was something else. Not everyone was, whether male or female. Vinnie had read somewhere in all his curious researches that most heterosexual men were actually more gentle in bed than most gay men, because women had trained them that way. Maybe it wasn’t true, but even if it was a little true, it was funny actually. As if either one of them could break easily. The two thugs shooting up the town, beating guys down with baseball bats (which happened only once) and then falling into bed and doing everything slow and sensuous and easy, as if they’d never seen a gun in their lives and the boxing ring did not exist. It was astonishingly wonderful, but it was funny.

He couldn’t stop thinking about stuff like that, and it was why his attention was not one hundred percent on Frank today. He felt guilty about it, but not too guilty. He’d done his job, given Frank what he needed, and he was ready to go back and finish the job now. He only needed a few more access codes, a few more files.

So he let himself indulge in his distractions, at least here with Frank. It had been over three weeks of drought for him and Sonny. Sonny was like a drug. He needed a few hours at least to get him out of his system. Frank was just going to have to put up with him.

He ate hungrily, like he usually did. He knew it amused Frank that he often dived into his food.

They talked about inconsequential things as they ate. The Texas weather, the Knicks, and strangely they both missed New York.

They were there little more than half an hour. Vinnie watched Frank leave and head back to his motel where he’d call in the report and then wait for another meeting. Then Vinnie got into his car and took off back to the city.

 

Sonny felt antsy, nervous. Meeting Vinnie while he was on the job was irresistible, but it also seemed just plain crazy. It was a risk to Vinnie. To his very life. And Sonny hated it. But he’d wanted to see him so badly that he’d allowed the indulgence.

Now he was pissed at himself. He was in the danger business. He knew how things operated. But he still let himself and Vinnie take the risk. That’s how stupid in love he was.

Well, now he was thinking with his brain again, instead of something else.

So instead of heading straight back to the airport, he turned his car around and circled the block. Vinnie had told him he had a meeting with Frank for lunch. So he wasn’t surprised to see them in the diner as he drove by. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he was tense and unusually hyper, and it wasn’t because of the past night, or seeing Vinnie have lunch with Frank.

So he waited. He watched Frank leave first, then Vinnie. God Vinnie looked good, even from a distance. He wanted to just drive up, grab him and take him away somewhere unknown, off the map, and never look back.

It was a stupid impulsive thought.

He watched Vinnie pull out of the lot and drive down the street. He was about to follow when he saw a black Porsche pull out of a side alley and follow.

“Ah, ya got the sixth sense, Sonny,” he mumbled to himself.

Vinnie was smart. He’d notice immediately. But still, what could it mean? Had Vinnie been followed? Would this person know Frank, or Sonny himself? Whether Vinnie blew off the tail or not, things suddenly did not look good. Even if the tail did not know who all the players were yet, they would eventually find out. Unfortunately, Sonny could not contact Vinnie. It would put him in even more danger. But he knew the number for his Lifeguard, Uncle Mike, or Dan, or whatever the fuck name he was using these days. It wouldn’t hurt to put a call in and tell him what he saw. Dan would listen. Dan seemed, at least, more reasonable than Frank. And anything he could do to avoid Frank McPike would be a good thing.

 

“I did not get a look at him. But the car was a black Porsche, looked a little old, no plates.” Sonny told Dan.

“I’ll relay the information,” Dan replied.

“I don’t know if they would recognize McPike, or if they saw me. I’m more high profile so if they did see me they might know me. I don’t know what that would mean to Vinnie. It wouldn’t peg him as a cop, but it might make them think he was selling out or something.” He sighed heavier than he meant to. “I don’t like it. I should never have come here.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Dan said patiently. “If he has to, Frank’ll pull him out today.”

Sonny felt increasingly frustrated. Sure this was Vinnie’s job. But here they were talking on the phone with a fake calm while everyone was fucking with Vinnie’s life. “If you need me to do anything…go in there or something. I make deals with guys like these all the time….”

Dan interrupted him. “We don’t even know what’s going down. You do nothing. You hear me?”

“I’m not one to sit on my hands, dammit!”

“Vinnie’s smart. He’s a pro. If anyone can handle it, he can.”

“Yeah. I know. He weaseled his way out of a lot of crap with me, too, remember?” And he saw in his mind’s eye Vinnie standing there, half-choked up, Sid’s gonna come down on me.

Yeah, Sonny thought. I fell for it. But not everyone’s me.

To Dan, he said, “But I have to be kept in the loop. I’m going crazy here.”

“Yeah,” Dan said, pausing. There was silence. “Okay. I’ll let you know when I know anything. But McPike’ll have both our hides if he ever finds out. So you didn’t hear anything from me.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“And you have to leave the state right now.”

“Excuse me?” Sonny said, incredulous.

“Get out of there. You cannot be involved.”

“Hey, pal, it’ll take an army to get me to that airport. I’m not going anywhere.”

Dan did not respond. Finally, after Sonny listened to a few clicks and whirs, he heard Dan say, “Give me the number where you can be reached.”

Sonny had taken a room near where he knew Vinnie was working. He had used fake I.D.s, but it didn’t matter. If he was being tailed, too, they’d already know where he’d be. Sonny gave the number anyway and told Dan he’d call immediately if that changed.

Before he hung up, Dan said, “Frank is going to go ballistic when I call him.”

“Who cares?” Sonny said. But he was talking to a dial tone.

 

Sitting on his hands. It was not something he had ever been good at. He had already turned the TV on and off a hundred times. He had punched the wall for awhile, but not hard. His knuckles still hurt from weeks ago when he’d punched the shower wall in the Bahamas. He drummed the furniture, the bed, his chest, his knees. He paced. Several times he picked up the phone and dialed Dan again. But hung up before he connected.

“Christ!” he yelled. Then, “Fuck!” He walked over and kicked the door just as a knock came from outside.

Sonny opened it to see the last person he’d ever wanted to see standing there: Frank McPike.

He said nothing, just stood back and let the grumpy little man enter, then slammed the door behind him.

“Tell me you got a plan,” Sonny demanded. It didn’t seem important to him to ask how Frank found him. Dan had probably told him where he was.

“The protocol is to wait for him to call back.”

“How long do you wait?” Sonny heard his voice rise.

“A few hours.”

Sonny frowned. “Hours? How many?”

“A few,” Frank replied curtly.

Sonny strode over to him and before he knew what he was doing he had Frank by the throat. He said, “If anything happens to him, you’re next. I’ll make sure of it!”

Frank just looked at him straight on. Sonny had to give the guy points for not flinching. Then Frank said in a dangerous tone, “Get off me.”

Sonny was shaking. His eyes were hot. He pushed Frank away hard, but Frank didn’t fall. Instead he caught his balance and shoved Sonny back, hard. “This is NOT gonna help!” Frank put his hand against Sonny’s chest and pushed again. “Do you understand?”

After Sonny regained his balance, he walked right back into Frank’s upraised palm, letting it rest against his chest. “No,” he said coldly. “I don’t.” And he pushed with his body. “You yank him outta there now.” When Frank did not back off, Sonny said, “Do it!”

Frank dropped his hand and turned away. He took off his glasses and started cleaning them on the edge of his shirt. “You’re not the only one who cares about him,” Frank murmured.

“Fuck you.” Sonny realized his hands were trembling. He wanted to punch a wall again. Or Frank. Or anyone.

Frank replied with one word. “Yeah.” It was not a challenge. It was like an echo. Like he was admitting he felt exactly the same.

Sonny didn’t care. He said, “I tell ya, if this is what my tax dollars are going toward, I’m not impressed.”

Frank turned, putting his glasses back on. “And what taxes would that be that you pay?”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “My casino’s legit and you know it. So’s Terranova Marine. I pay more taxes than 99 percent of the people in this country. So you just go and act all superior. It don’t bother me none.”

“You have an answer for everything.”

“Yeah, I sure do!” he said hotly. There was a strange silence for about 10 seconds. Then Sonny said, softer, “I just want you to get Vinnie out of there, damn you.” Now Sonny turned away and moved toward the window, hands clenched into tight fists.

He heard Frank sigh, then say with a tone surprisingly void of sarcasm, “We will, sport. We will.”

 

Frank had to grudgingly admit that if not for Sonny, they might never have known about Vince’s tail. Although Vince had had to have caught onto it. He was too smart not to. But even if Vince ditched the tail, someone had still seen them meet at the diner. Someone may have also seen Sonny with him at the hotel.

Knowing Vince, Frank was pretty sure he would not run. Vince had just enough arrogance to believe he could walk through fire and come out not only alive, but unburned. He would risk his life to not compromise this case. He knew Vince was already composing stories in his head, explanations, reasons, logistics. As a graduate at the top of his class in Quantico, not to mention a straight A Fordham student, Vince had been up for a position at the F.B.I. think tank. He was that smart. But he’d chosen field work. He’d wanted on the spot action. And Frank had to admit Vince was good at thinking on his feet.

He turned and looked at Sonny. Sonny had to know that, too. Vince had played him like a cheap violin. And now here he was, the thug with the fishhook in him so deep he probably couldn’t even remember the first time he bit. Vince was like that. Everyone he met fell in love with him. They wanted to do things for him, give him things. Make exceptions. Make excuses. As long as Vince could keep convincing them he was on their side.

If he had one comfort concerning Vince’s relationship with Sonny, it was that he knew Sonny treated him well. Always had. He’d seen it with his own eyes.

Out loud, he said, “He ever tell you his I.Q.?”

Sonny turned from the window. He shook his head.

“It’s up there. Way up.”

“Figures,” Sonny said.

“This is what he does. Can you tell me when he was working for you what was real about him and what was fake?”

Sonny looked like he was going to come over and try to strangle him again.

“I don’t expect an answer,” Frank said, watching Sonny’s fists unclench and clench. “Know why? Because he couldn’t tell you the answer. He goes into a case as if it’s real. He gets involved. It’s like method acting. It tears at his soul, but it’s why he’s so good. He believes in what he’s doing, but he’s real about it, too. He doesn’t cut himself off. His feelings…they are his feelings. What he tells people is the truth as he sees it. Even I couldn’t do that in the field.”

“But it ruined his case with me.”

“No it didn’t.” Frank went and sat down on the couch. “We got so much. We put a lot of people away. You think you’re the one that got away? It’s a detail. A detail Vince engineered. He saved your ass. I still don’t know what he sees in you. But he controlled every aspect of your case, you know.”

Sonny turned back toward the window again.

Frank added, “He still does.” Then he wondered if he’d said too much. He wasn’t trying to undermine Sonny’s trust. But it was entertaining to make little digs. He couldn’t help himself.

 

When Vince finally called, it took Frank half an hour to convince him they had enough evidence that they were coming in before day’s end with the black and whites to start making arrests. Vince should be prepared.

True to form, Vince had noticed the tail and dodged it. He did not know the tail had come from the diner. He was speechless when Frank told him Sonny had been the one to spot it.

“Where’s Sonny now?” Vince had asked.

“Here. With me.”

“Christ almighty,” Vince said. “Together in the same room and you’re both still alive?”

Frank ignored the comment.

“Frank, try to get the guys to lay off the Conway guy. It’s Crane you want. Conway’s not an evil guy, just involved in things that got too deep too fast; and he’s super paranoid like Sonny was without the temper, and without the goon squad. But Crane…that guy reminds me of Patrice. Anyway, tell them I’ve made sure Conway’s gun has no bullets.”

“I’m making a note of it now,” Frank said. “Kinda like Sonny, eh?” He looked over at Sonny, who glared at him when he said that. Frank smirked.

“Frank! Did he hear you say that?”

“I think so.”

“Fuck…”

“Wait, I’m writing all this down.”

“Anyway, I’m safe. I got myself some cover stories. If you get here before six, you can get the OCB what it wants, I think. And I can come home.”

“You got it, sport.”

“I gotta go. If anything changes I’ll do my best to get to a phone. And sit on Sonny. Don’t let him come near here!”

“Uh huh,” Frank mumbled.

“Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it. I’ve already been sitting on him. He’s squirmy as hell, too. Does he ever sit still?”

The phone went dead. “Well, well,” Frank said, “The guy has no sense of humor.”

“You’re joking,” Sonny quipped from his seat on the couch. “A sense of humor? When you’re all going in there in a couple hours like some kind of third world guerrilla attack force?”

“Humor diffuses the stress. That’s all.”

“Well if humor diffuses stress, why aren’t you trying to be funny?”

Frank turned his back on him and started making phone calls.

 

 

Maybe Frank didn’t realize that Vinnie’s voice over the phone had carried through the room. Sonny had heard everything. So he knew what Vinnie had told Frank. And that’s how he knew, when he watched it all go down, that things had gotten fucked up.

Even though Sonny swore he’d stay put, he didn’t. After Frank left, he found a nearby building that would afford a great view, thanks to the Texas flat landscape. On the top floor of the small office building, looking completely as if he belonged, he watched it all go down across the street in the big oil corporation parking lot. Before it was half over, a crowd of office workers had gathered at his back. They made a lot of noise, but Sonny didn’t hear them. He was too busy watching as Vinnie’s friend was shot dead right before his eyes after he’d pulled his weapon. It had to be the Conway dude, because of the way, even at this distance, Vinnie gestured angrily at the cops, because of the way Vinnie knelt beside him, head bowed. And then the woman came running. He could almost hear her screaming, with cops trying to stop her. But it was Vinnie who grabbed her and he held onto her hard while she railed against him trying to get to the dead guy. She had to be dragged out of his arms by Frank himself, who handed her over to a uniform. Sonny figured she was Conway’s girl or, worse, his wife. Maybe there were kids, too. Then Frank cuffed Vinnie and led him away. There were a couple of bodies on the ground in the end. Light casualties, actually, considering the operation. But Sonny knew this one, even if it had only been three weeks, was gonna smart.

He went back to his cheap motel room under his false I.D. and waited.

It wasn’t long before he heard a car drive up. He looked out the window. Vinnie got out of the passenger side of the car. Frank got out on the driver’s side. Sonny went and opened the door.

They came into the room and Sonny closed the door and locked it.

Frank said to Sonny, “Ok, I’m leaving him with you.” Then to Vinnie, “You have three days to report back and get debriefed, Vince.”

Vinnie nodded.

Sonny watched him, keeping his face neutral. Vinnie looked thoroughly pissed, which was understandable.

“We’ll fly out tonight,” Sonny said, trying to be smooth.

“Yeah, well I’m not leaving until the morning,” Frank said. “I gotta wrap some things up. It’ll be an all-nighter.” Then he turned to Vinnie. “Vince.”

Vinnie interrupted him. He said without looking up, “I’m sick of it, Frank. I don’t want to hear anymore. I told you his gun was not even loaded.”

“And I relayed that.”

Vinnie made an evil face. “I hate stupid people, but I hate stupid trigger happy cops the most.”

Sonny thought, Jesus Christ. This guy’s fucked up. He hates guys who shoot other guys…and he sleeps with one. And he wondered if because he wasn’t a trigger-happy cop, or entirely stupid, maybe that made it okay. Was that funny, or what?

He felt a headache coming on, and he never got headaches.

“We’ll deal with it Friday. Okay?” Frank said.

Vinnie gave him the finger.

Sonny said, “Christ, what happened?”

Frank turned and walked out the door. Sonny walked over and closed it, then moved back into the room several feet away from Vinnie. He stared at him.

Vinnie finally looked up. He held out his hands and said, “Not a drop of blood got on me. I must be blessed.” His laugh was pain filled. So were his eyes.

Sonny didn’t laugh. Or even smile. He crossed his arms. Then he said, very seriously, “Why do you do it?”

Vinnie looked away.

Sonny took a step forward. “I saw it all go down. I was in a building across the street. That could’ve been me.”

Vinnie said, “No.”

“Yeah, it could’ve. What are you gonna do, Vinnie, try to save us all? Collect us in some little room somewhere, where you can absolve your guilt every time you go in to look at the faces of all those lovely criminals you saved?” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm from edging his voice.

Vinnie turned away, his fists clenching.

“You think too much. It’s gonna eventually drive you crazy or kill you. And it’s infectious. Why do you think I punch out shower walls so much? I never used to do that. You get in me. You get me thinking, too. It’s not good.”

Vinnie turned to look at him now. “You’re the case that went right.”

“No I’m not. You should’ve double-crossed me! That’s your job! We just got lucky, you and me. I’ll never understand why…why you did what you did.” He was thinking of that first night, the night he’d attacked Vinnie so viciously just for kissing him. No, it wasn’t because of the kiss, it was because he’d laughed. That was why. “You shouldn’t even still be working. Even if Frank thinks you’re the best.”

Vinnie said, “He say that?”

Sonny crossed his arms tighter. “He doesn’t have to. He worships the very ground you walk on! We all do! What is it about you, Vinnie?” Sonny shook his head.

Like a little kid, Vinnie said shakily, “I don’t know.”

Finally Sonny walked over to him, uncrossing his arms as he went. “It’s not a bad thing. But eventually you’re not going to be able to live with yourself. You’re around the wrong people. And they get to you. And you die inside each time. It’s not fucking healthy.”

“I don’t know how to be any other way,” Vinnie said.

Sonny put his arms around him. “You fucking crazy boy. I know. That’s the reason everybody loves you.” He felt Vinnie trembling.

For a long time he just held him. Then he stepped back. “C’mon,” he said quietly. “I got a jet waiting. Let’s go home.”

 

Sonny’s limo met them at Atlantic City International Airport. They got inside and Vinnie said, “Are we going back to your place?”

“You’re still undercover, and until the day you aren’t and it’s not safe it’s our place.”

Vinnie just looked at him.

“You wanna go to a hotel? Don’t you think it seems riskier if I’m sneaking around? Staying in weird hotels?”

“I just think… Frank must be having a cow every time he has to send me off with you. And we end up at the Royal Diamond as if I still work there.”

“Why’re you thinking of Frank all the time?” Sonny accused.

Vinnie shot him a small smile, the first of the night. “Okay, but from now on in this relationship I have to pay my own way. Frank said so.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“He freaked about the Rolex. Trips to the Bahamas are okay, as long as I pay.”

Sonny started laughing and couldn’t stop. Then he said, “I’ll let you buy me anything you want. What kind of salary you make anyway?”

“Not as much as you paid. But kinda a lot, considering I’m a cop. And since I’m always traveling, I got nothing to spend it on but a dingy old apartment I never see in between New York and AC. It collects in the bank.”

“Okay, then, I’ll make a list.”

Vinnie tried not to smile but couldn’t stop. Then he leaned forward and kissed Sonny. Sonny kissed back, still laughing.

 

They were both exhausted. It was well past midnight east coast time when they got in. They crashed on Sonny’s big, downy bed and were asleep as soon as they closed their eyes.

Sonny woke abruptly. He heard strange sounds. As he reoriented himself remembering he was back home and Vinnie was with him, he realized that Vinnie was dreaming. Or rather, having a nightmare.

He punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Hey. Vinnie. Wake up.” He had to shake him twice more before Vinnie finally woke.

Vinnie said, “Where am I?”

“Home.” Sonny grabbed him and pulled him onto his side. “Remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ! I told you this bed is scary. Wanna go sleep on the couch?”

That got Vinnie to laugh a little. Well, it was a start.

“Hell,” Sonny added, “I spent plenty a night out there.”

“Nothing’s better than this bed,” Vinnie finally said. “I love this bed.”

“Okay then.” Sonny was smiling in the darkness. Then he felt Vinnie move over him and kiss him all smooth and warm.

Afterward, Vinnie said, “Thank you.”

Sonny felt confused. “What?”

“More than likely, you saved my life.”

It’s the least I can do. Sonny said, aloud, “We keep each other alive.” And he couldn’t help but remember that little attempt at a dig McPike had made. He controlled every aspect of your case. He still does. All that meant was that every single day Vinnie still worked for the OCB he was saving Sonny’s life through some choice or decision he’d made that they hoped no one would ever learn about. If Frank had wanted to undermine their trust, he’d done just the opposite. Vinnie was protecting him. Even now, this very moment.

As if reading his thoughts, Vinnie tightened his arms around Sonny, tangling their legs together.

 

That spring, Sonny gave his customs operation to Mahoney. Just like that. And it wasn’t even Christmas.

Sid had a fit, but Sonny reminded him that it was Sid himself who had told Sonny that Patrice made more money from his legit operations than underworld ones. Well, if that was true, then why not go more legit? It kept the Feds away, and made their lives a little less hectic, yes?

And so far, since the autumn, Sonny had not once indulged his “bloodlust” as Vinnie liked to refer to it. Although a couple times he’d really really wanted to kill Frank McPike.

If he had problems on his staff, he opted for sending the person away to another city. Let them take care of the bastard. And so far he hadn’t found any more rats or any more cops, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. And they still swept the place for bugs every single day.

Vinnie had been gone now for three weeks, working for an insane arms dealer named Mel Profitt. The good thing about the job was he had pretty free reign. He called Sonny every night. The bad thing was this Mel guy was completely nuts.

They had decided not to meet yet. They were thinking maybe not at all, unless Vinnie actually happened to be in Atlantic City. But it was driving them crazy being apart. Also, they both knew long-distance relationships had terrible statistics for even short term survival.

Mel was a dangerous sort. Sonny had heard of him, but never had any dealings with him. Like the Zhoratso brothers, he was unpredictable, a back-stabber, and might just as soon kill you if he didn’t like the color of your shirt. He was the Caligula of his area of organized crime. Rumor had it he even slept with his beautiful sister, which Vinnie frighteningly confirmed.

When the call came at the usual time, Sonny answered, grinning. “Watcha doin’?”

“What do ya think I’m doing, watching reruns of Miami Vice?”

Sonny laughed. That was a bone of contention between them. Sonny liked the show. Vinnie despised it. Sonny liked the fact that the main character was named Sonny, and he was even a little cute. And a cop. Plus the show had good music. But if Vinnie caught him watching, he’d come into the room and turn it off.

At least he didn’t punch the TV like Sonny used to in the good old days.

“So what’s up, sportshoes? You sound annoyed.”

Vinnie said, “That sister of Mel’s. She’s a pistol. Sometimes I can’t get rid of her!”

“Is her name Susan?”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Uh, well, better to ask what isn’t the problem.”

“Oh, I get it. She’s fallen for you.” Sonny rolled his eyes. It was a no-brainer. Everyone fell for Vinnie.

“How’d you guess?”

“Vinnie. Hello? I fell for you and I never before had…you know… liked ANY guy.”

Vinnie laughed. “Me, either. So? Then how do you explain my side of things?”

“Easy. You told me that first night, damn you. I’m pure.” He laughed softly. “And we connect.”

“Yeah. We do that real well.”

“So I’m just utterly irresistible to you. We’re each other’s exception to the rule. You do realize we should never have even met.”

Vinnie laughed. “Have you been drinking?”

“Have you?”

But neither one answered the question.

Vinnie stopped laughing, then said, “If I was there right now, I’d…I’d….”

“You’d what?” Sonny wanted to know. He wanted details.

Sonny lay back on his white couch and waited, but Vinnie didn’t speak.

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay? Is someone else there?”

“I’m okay. And I’m alone.”

“Is it just the Susan girl, or something else?”

Vinnie didn’t answer.

“Okay,” Sonny said, “So, what, do you have a thing for her?”

“Nah. Not like that. But it’s her. She’s always all over me. It makes Mel crazy, but then he sort of encourages her and I don’t know what’s going on.”

Sonny lay still for a moment and thought long and hard. Then he said, “Vinnie, you have to do what you do best. You can’t let anything get in the way of that. You know that. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m not gonna sleep with her.”

“Why not? Sleeping with the mark…,” he said jokingly, “you’re good at it.”

“Fuck you! Sonny, I’m gonna hang up on you! Don’t you ever say that again! You hear me? Christ!”

“Wait, I was kidding….”

“It’s not funny! I’m not some…some department whore!”

“I didn’t say that. Hey, calm down! Shit. I didn’t use that word. I wouldn’t.” Sonny was trying to keep from laughing. Vinnie was more pissed than he’d ever heard him.

“But you think it?”

“No! No. No! I said it once, I’ll say it again. What happened with us, Vinnie, it was despite the job, not for the job. I know that. Hell. Everything we’ve been through together? I never even once thought that about you and me.” He didn’t feel like laughing anymore. He was remembering real good times, mainly the hotel in the Bahamas. And their afternoons together, especially that one special afternoon…making love, being inside him for the first time, and how Vinnie had clung to him practically sobbing in ecstasy, that crazy beautiful boy.

“Vinnie?”

No answer.

“Talk to me, crazy boy. I love ya, man. Talk.”

Vinnie’s voice sounded far away when he said, “But I don’t want it to be that way.”

“Want what what way? Huh?”

“I haven’t been with anyone else, Sonny, since you. I don’t want to be.”

Sonny was quiet for a moment. He got it. He hadn’t been with anyone else, either. Never wanted to. Their relationship was exclusive, although they’d never talked about in those exact words. Then he said, “But you think it will make you look funny if you don’t…if you don’t go for her. It’s part of the cover. But not a requirement. Except with you you go full bore, all out, Vinnie. Method acting. That’s why you’re so good.”

“But it’s you and me, Sonny. You and me. No one else. I don’t want her!”

Sonny didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want Vinnie off fucking some crazy sister of a crazy arms dealer, either. But Vinnie had a role to play. He couldn’t be jealous of that, unless of course Vinnie fell for her. But then they’d deal with that issue separately, another day. He thought of a bunch of funny things to say—think of England, do it for the Queen, maybe there’s a promotion in it for you, it’s how you get in the movies—but he held back. Vinnie was really quite the romantic. And on top of it all, the sensitive type.

“Vinnie,” he finally said softly, “I want to see you.”

Vinnie was silent.

Sonny closed his eyes. “I gotta see you.”

“But last time….”

“Well, think about it. Last time maybe saved your life.”

“But it could’ve gone another way, too.”

Sonny could not disagree. He hated the danger this put Vinnie in. He said, “Can you come here? Even for one night? I’ll send a jet.”

“Maybe. I could get Roger to cover for me.”

“Roger? You never mentioned a Roger.”

“Yeah. He’s a real trip, too.”

“So then you will look into it? Coming back here?”

“Yeah.” He heard Vinnie swallow. “Three weeks is too long. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“Tell me about it. I was just gonna say I don’t know which is worse, not being able to catch my breath when you’re around, or not being able to breathe because you’re gone.”

Now Vinnie laughed. Sonny was glad to diffuse the tension. He had never intended to insult Vinnie. And he never wanted to see him hurt. In reality, he’d actually come to admire his convictions and his morals. He hadn’t thought before he’d spoken. His little joke which was only meant to be that, a joke, had surprisingly hit closer to home than he’d ever imagined it would. In person it might not have been so bad. It was easy to placate Vinnie when Vinnie was in front of him. All he had to do was touch his hair or say something sweet in Italian, or call him ‘crazy boy,’ and Vinnie would be in his arms.

Over the long-distance echoey hollow sound, Vinnie said quietly, “Sonny. I miss you.”

Tremors started in Sonny’s stomach. Flew to his chest. He wanted Vinnie right now more than anything. This was like torture. Sonny shut his eyes tight.

Vinnie said, not waiting for a reply, “I’ll look into coming out there tomorrow.”

Sonny tried to take a deep breath, failed, tried again. “Okay,” he finally said. “In the meantime, try steering her toward her brother. I know it’s sick, but….yuck. If you end up doing anything, use a condom. Her brother! Yuck! He’s been god only knows where.”

He heard Vinnie sigh.

“Vinnie, I can’t bring myself to begrudge you a fake affair. I’m pretty secure here. I am fairly sure I’m the one you really want. Especially if the game is rock, paper, scissors.” If being together like that didn’t shift the magnetic poles of the earth, nothing could.

Vinnie laughed. “Sonny, when I get there I’m gonna throw you down on the floor right in front of that couch of yours that you’re probably sitting on right now. Mark my words.”

“Maybe I’ll get housekeeping to vacuum first.” And they were laughing together. Which was the real thing they needed right now. They almost always laughed throughout their phone conversations. Being forced to communicate long-distance had honed their communication skills. They were tuned to each other by certain words, and they knew how to use them to get attention from each other or placate each other. In a way, maybe they were lucky for that part of it. A lot of relationships went sour because people didn’t know how to communicate.

“Don’t hang up yet,” Vinnie said when the laughter subsided. “Just stay on the phone with me for awhile.”

“Sure thing.”

Then Sonny started telling him about his day. Sid was a dick. He had lunch. Then he gave away his customs set up. Along with that, he hadn’t done any smuggling to speak of at the Marine in months. His businesses were doing well. And by the way, had he told Vinnie that fifty percent of what Terranova Marine made after all expenses went into his private account in the Cayman Islands?

“No,” Vinnie whispered. “Is that where you’ve hidden it?”

“Maybe,” Sonny said. “But we’re both in dangerous jobs. If anything happens to me, I want you set up. And I don’t care what you have to say about it, or if you give it all to charity. I’m just doing it.”

Vinnie said nothing.

“So our next trip to the Bahamas can be on your dime.”

“I already told you that’s the way it has to be.”

Sonny just laughed.

“Sonny, what’s going on with you?”

“You make me think too much, Terranova. That’s what’s going on. And I’m tired of beating on shower walls. So I made a few changes, that’s all. I sleep better. And when I sleep better I’m not carrying Pat’s fucking designer bags under my eyes.”

“Fendi,” Vinnie said.

“Huh?”

“You called them Fendi when he was complaining of insomnia.”

Sonny tried to remember. It was during their very first visit together to meet with Patrice. Vinnie’s introduction to Pat the Cat had been by way of much sarcasm and innuendo. He still laughed over that memory.

Vinnie chuckled. “Well, I thought it was funny.”

“Yeah, well you’re the smart mouth. I remember that night. You said Pat’s guys were tailgating. You were a real shit to him. He deserved it, too. I was so proud.”

Vinnie said, “Glad I could be of service.”

“God, sometimes I miss the old days.”

Vinnie laughed. “Yeah. Good times.”

“Maybe if I go really legit, you could come work for me for real, without compromising your Terranova values and all.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I have plans for you. I can’t stand this, Vinnie.”

“But it would be harder to keep our secret. And we have to.”

“Maybe. I don’t know if it would be harder or not.”

They stayed on the phone another hour before finally succumbing to sleep.

 

Sonny was sitting up in his bed, finishing up a tumbler of whiskey and staring off into space when a very tired-looking Vinnie, wearing white shorts and a white tank, came in from the bathroom and climbed into the big bed. Vinnie crawled toward him, put his arms around Sonny’s waist and his head against Sonny’s shoulder. Sonny put one arm under Vinnie’s upper back and the other over his waist and hugged him.

After a minute, he heard Vinnie start to softly snore. He grunted, then muttered, “Ya big baby.” He didn’t mind when Vinnie fell asleep on top of him, but he’d never done it while Sonny was still sitting up. And never before making love. But now Sonny just held him tighter. He was okay for right now. He’d give Vinnie a few minutes before he shoved him to the side to sleep, if that’s what he wanted to do.

Then he started thinking. About Susan Profitt.

Vinnie was going a little crazy over her, but not because he was in love with her. It was because she was in love with him. And Vinnie pitied her and found it hard to say no to her about things. He kept saying to Sonny, “I don’t want to hurt her.”

Sonny had thought to himself, Well, hell, she’s a murderous, incestuous black market arms dealer who keeps her brother supplied in dope, even feeds it to him before fucking him senseless, why of course Vinnie would never want to see her hurt. No, not his Vinnie. But he never said anything like that aloud. Because he knew it wasn’t just that. Vinnie saw things in people that were below the surface. He saw through the craziness and darkness and found little sparks of light. It was like it was Vinnie’s nature to fan those lights, make them brighter. He’d done it to Sonny, and now here they were in the most improbable affair of their lives, with Sonny, who decided six months ago he’d gone well and truly mad, trying his best to legitimize all his operations. And why? Because Vinnie was Vinnie. It was very simple. And yet, for Vinnie, who took so much to heart, it wasn’t very simple at all. It was harder and harder. And Sonny thought he wouldn’t like it very much to grow old and watch this job tear the too generous soul of his lover into more and more pieces every year, every time someone died at his feet or in his arms or wherever.

He tried to be more philosophical about Susan, the way Vinnie was. But it didn’t work so well. He knew these kinds of people. And he didn’t feel very much sympathy for them. So they had bad childhoods, or were abused, or desperate or stupid or misguided or fallen in with the wrong crowd. So what? Everyone had bad memories, and everyone had choices in life. Everyone had the ability to fucking finally say no. Even Sonny himself. Sonny had never made excuses for his behaviors. He chose them. He’d been an asshole, on purpose, and probably would be again. Sonny had reasons, not excuses. He felt the things everyone else did, the darker things like greed and competition and a hunger for power. He always wanted to win. It was important to him, like an addiction. And he didn’t really care, for a long long time, what it did to other people. He realized he made up for it by being funny and charming and generous but it didn’t make up for that hunger inside him that wanted everything at any cost. And he chose to indulge that hunger. Vinnie should have despised him. If Vinnie had taken him down six months ago, Sonny would have been well and truly pissed. He might not have even understood it at the time, and felt terribly indignant and betrayed and insulted and vengeful. But it went with the territory. Vinnie knew that. But it was Sonny who got lucky that it was Vinnie who came calling to take him down. Sonny got lucky that Vinnie, who should have despised him more than the devil himself, instead saw something in him worth saving. But was it worth it to Vinnie’s soul to be that kind of person? It was something Sonny would never understand. Vinnie had something inside him Sonny didn’t have, and he barely even grasped at what that might feel like. All he knew was that of all the people Vinnie could love on this earth, Vinnie loved him. And Sonny could not have loved him back more for it. Vinnie was like air to him. And he couldn’t stop breathing him in.

So maybe that was the way of it with Susan. And on that level, maybe Sonny could manufacture the slightest bit of sympathy for her. But it was hard. And this situation right now made Vinnie crazy. And Sonny resented that it made him crazy. Hated it.

As he thought that, Vinnie stirred, made a noise low in his throat. He opened his eyes. Sonny looked slightly down at him. “You were snoring,” he said.

“Sorry. Fuck. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’m an asshole.”

“Yeah, well…,” he said, trying to sound put out, thinking it’d be fun to try to make Vinnie feel embarrassed. But when he looked into those sweet eyes he felt himself pulled in, as if by some errant and impossible gravitational force. His arms tightened. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “In fact, it’s great.” Grinning, he leaned into him and kissed Vinnie lingeringly on his cheek, then on the mouth. His hand trailed over Vinnie’s hip, stroking softly. And he thought he could live ten, no, a hundred lifetimes and never get enough of Vinnie Terranova falling asleep in his arms.

 

The night time phone calls became more intermittent, but Sonny didn’t say anything. He never initiated them, either, even though he knew where Vinnie was, and that Vinnie had his own private line. It was far too dangerous.

But when Vinnie called tonight, he was really not himself. He kept saying things out of context like, “It’s hot here.” And, “I miss your bed.” And, “So what’d you say you had for dinner?” And Sonny had never once even mentioned dinner.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

It had been another three weeks, going on four, of drought, driving them both crazy. “Vinnie, can we see each other?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Or you can’t?”

“I just want this case to be over already.”

“I know.”

“Things are deteriorating fast.”

“Please. I’ll send a jet like last time. Get that Roger guy to cover for you again.”

“I don’t think Frank….”

“Fuck Frank!”

Silence.

“Okay,” Sonny said. “I’ll book a private jet tomorrow morning. I’ll instruct them to wait until, what, eight o’clock tomorrow night. You have all day to get to it. If you don’t you don’t.”

More silence.

“And when you get in you can call me.”

Sonny waited some more.

“Vinnie?”

“What.”

Sonny wanted to mention her name, ask questions, get details. But he kept his mouth shut. Susan. Goddamn Susan Profitt. It had been about a week since Vinnie had even brought her up. At first he’d hoped maybe it wasn’t a problem anymore, but he knew better, because Vinnie was getting harder and harder to talk to. And he didn’t laugh much at all anymore, not like they used to. Not like their real good phone calls where all they did was laugh the whole night away. Sometimes Sonny would fall asleep laughing with the phone on the pillow.

Sonny said, “If you don’t show up I won’t be mad. Okay? I’m not trying to push you, just give you an option.” He felt strange. He felt like a tunnel suddenly opened up inside him and all the memories of him and Vinnie were sliding down it into a frightening darkness, Vinnie calling him ‘pure,’—gone, Vinnie running through the white showflakes outside the steakhouse—gone, Vinnie pulling him into the thick shadows to kiss him outside their hotel in the Bahamas—gone, Vinnie playing ‘paper’ for the first time slipping into him like he was reaching in to touch his heart—gone…. Sonny felt dizzy for a moment, like someone had put a hand over his mouth, two hands over his ears. And he had the strange thought: If I ever lost him, what would I do?

“Vinnie. You don’t have to come.”

Sonny heard him take a sharp breath. Then Vinnie said, “I want to come.”

“I miss you, is all,” Sonny said.

“Me, too.” Vinnie’s voice sounded almost tragic.

This was not going well at all.

Sonny said, “I’m on my couch, ya know. I’m wearing my gray Armani.” It was a lie, but Vinnie didn’t have to know that.

Vinnie said, softly, “Yeah? Nice.”

Nice? Sonny thought. Nice. Hell, that suit cost two grand for ‘nice’. Vinnie needed to get away from those people. God dammit! Vinnie needed a different job!

Sonny tried another lie. “Well, Frank’ll have a fit because I bought a matching one for you.”

Vinnie was quiet for a moment before saying, “You did not!”

Sonny laughed. Then Vinnie laughed very softly. And that was all he’d wanted to hear.

 

Vinnie was running. Running through a strange forest, damp and red. And leaves sloshed at his feet, tripping him. Low bare autumn branches hit his face and he put his hands up to protect himself as he ran and ran. It was dusky dark, but not too dark that he couldn’t see. Up ahead he saw a figure. He felt desperate and scared. Terrified, in fact. Because the figure up ahead was someone dangerous, and he might turn around and see Vinnie, and if he did Vinnie might be in for the fight of his life. But he was running toward him and he couldn’t figure that part out, because why would he be running toward danger? Why force a confrontation? At that moment the figure did turn, and it started moving toward him. Running toward him. What the…? He wanted to stop. But he kept running, stumbling, branches hitting him, leaves stuck to his jeans. When they collided, Vinnie felt a jolt. The man in the tux said, “Hey! Vinnie!” The tone was anything but dangerous. More…joyful.

But Vinnie’s terror only increased and he felt himself fall to his knees, calling out, “Sonny! Sonny!” And his heart felt like it was on fire, crinkling in on itself like a piece of crumpled burning paper. He clung to Sonny’s waist, saying his name over and over. Crying out like someone being tortured. And then, feeling his chest start to shake, he said, “Forgive me. Oh god. Forgive me.”

Someone in the darkness beside him said, “Who’s Sonny?”

Vinnie opened his eyes, looked at her, then got up without speaking and went into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, got in, and started pounding the wall.

 

At exactly 3:11 in the afternoon, Sonny was sitting at his glass desk in his office when he got the call. “Where are you?” he asked.

Vinnie said, “Upstairs. In your penthouse.”

Surprised, Sonny said, “You should’ve stopped here along the way.”

“I didn’t feel like seeing anybody.”

“Yeah? Okay. I’ll be up in a few.” Sonny hung up. He swiveled in his chair and stared out his huge, plate glass windows at the city spread out before him. Vinnie had sounded…well, just wrong. He put his fingers to the bridge of his nose and rubbed, thinking. It seemed like any move he made might be the wrong one. Did Vinnie even know how easily he could read him? So, what was Sonny going to do? “Fuck it,” he said aloud, and got up, heading for the door. It didn’t matter what he said or did, as long as Vinnie was okay. He’d make sure of it. Vinnie was here now. That was what was important.

 

He entered the penthouse and closed the door softly behind him, locking it. It wasn’t that anyone ever came up here but him, or Vinnie. The elevator was locked to this floor and Vinnie’s floor, unless you had a key and a code. Sometimes he’d have guards at the door, but not lately. But he still always locked the door.

The living room was silent and empty. Sonny took off his jacket and laid it smoothly across the couch. Then he undid his tie but left it hanging around his neck as he padded down the hall. He turned into his bedroom and there he was, sitting at the foot of the bed, hands on his knees, looking down at the carpet as if he found it fascinating.

“Hey you.” Sonny walked over to him confidently, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Vinnie looked up. He wore a white button up long-sleeved shirt and black jeans. One side of his mouth jerked into an almost smile. “Hey.”

Even if Vinnie was unhappy, he was a sight for sore eyes. He looked just…just…well…fuck it. There were no proper words to describe Vinnie Terranova that didn’t seem like understatements. Something quivered in Sonny’s chest. He took a deep breath, put both hands on Vinnie’s shoulders, leaned down and kissed him. And Vinnie kissed back. Then Sonny raised his hands to Vinnie’s face. He ran his hands through his hair, tilting his head up, looking deep into those blue sky eyes. “You and me,” he said. “You and me.”

Vinnie nodded tightly, scooted up in the bed, and lay back as Sonny climbed onto the mattress, moving over him, grabbing his shoulders again and kissing him hard. Then he rolled onto his side, pulling Vinnie with him so they were facing, and kissed him some more. He tried not to notice when Vinnie stopped kissing him back, or that slowly Vinnie’s body was tensing up, or that his hands on Sonny’s back had stopped moving. But now it was like kissing a wall. And if you didn’t notice you were kissing a wall, then you had to be either insane or dead.

He pulled back and said gently, “What?” He regretted it as soon as he said it. But how was he supposed to know that one stupid word would make Vinnie’s face look suddenly so…so crumpled? And then Vinnie rolled away from him.

Sonny sat up. He forced himself to stay cool, calm. Sonny could flame up like a 4th of July barbeque. He was capable of destroying television sets with his fist, not to mention human noses, glasses of orange juice, desktop computer monitors, and shower walls. It wasn’t that he was pissed at Vinnie. Not at all! But he hated all of this. And he needed to remain calm. One of them needed to, because Vinnie was anything but.

Sonny reached out and touched him on the shoulder.

Vinnie jerked, then sat up swinging his legs over the side of the big bed. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Sonny pushed. He could’ve asked him why. Could have asked him what was wrong. But he knew why. He knew what was wrong. Why should Vinnie have to say it?

“Just don’t touch me right now.”

Sonny moved closer to him. “Don’t touch you? Yeah?” He did not say it with an angry tone. He kept his voice smooth and cool. “Me? In the same room with you? Not touching you? Impossible.” And he put his hand flat on Vinnie’s upper back.

Vinnie flinched. “I said don’t!” He moved forward, but Sonny moved with him. This forced Vinnie to turn so he could push Sonny’s hand away.

Sonny didn’t like being pushed. When Frank had pushed him he’d really wanted to kill him. Bad. When Vinnie did it, though, he couldn’t help himself. He laughed. And put his hand on Vinnie’s back again.

Vinnie pushed him a second time. Still laughing, Sonny said, “Where’s this gonna get you?”

Vinnie pushed a third time, then slid off the bed and onto the floor with his back against the bed so Sonny couldn’t reach it anymore. So Sonny moved forward again and touched the back of his neck. Vinnie tried to shake him off. He was breathing hard. Sonny could see his hands were fists on his bent knees, and he was trembling. It made him confused that this man could suffer over something so insignificant.

Keeping his voice casual, he said, “Jesus Christ. It’s not as if it’s a big deal or anything. I just hope you used a condom.”

He could not quite remember what happened next, but it seemed like Vinnie was flying at him, as if he’d levitated off the floor and back onto the bed so fast that Sonny missed it because he’d blinked. Sonny felt himself being tackled, felt himself pushed, a sudden fist in his gut, then on his shoulder, and his mind went blank. For a second he couldn’t respond. When he realized he could, a little voice inside him told him not to. So he forced himself to lie still underneath the squirming man, trusting him 100 percent. Vinnie wouldn’t really hurt him, he kept chanting over and over to himself. And even if he did, Sonny was a big boy. He could take it. He could take whatever Vinnie needed to give. So there was no need to get into this with him. No need.

Sonny closed his eyes, willing all his muscles to go slack.

Vinnie had his arms pinned now, his legs in a scissor hold. Everything froze. For long seconds, neither of them moved. Sonny was afraid to open his eyes. He didn’t want to see that crumpled face. He lay very still, trying to feel through his body what Vinnie’s body might be going through. Vinnie was still trembling. His breathing was shallow.

Finally he opened his eyes. Vinnie’s were closed. Then they opened and looked at Sonny. He saw fury. He saw pain and guilt and anger and self-loathing.

Vinnie’s hands tightened on Sonny’s wrists, squeezing. Then only one hand held his wrists and the other was free, forming into a fist and coming up over Sonny’s face.

Sonny’s teeth raked his lower lip. He remembered getting clocked in the jaw that very first night. Was this called coming full circle? He closed his eyes. Surrender was not his strong point. But with Vinnie all rules got broken anyway. “Go for it,” he said. “Whatever’ll make you feel better.” And waited.

When the soft palm of Vinnie’s hand gently touched his cheek, he opened his eyes. Vinnie’s other hand let go of his wrists. His legs relaxed. He rolled onto his side pulling Sonny with him. And then they were kissing frantically, tearing at each other’s shirts, yanking on trousers, kicking off shoes.

Vinnie was saying his name over and over, his voice hoarse, his hands moving everywhere.

Sonny felt like he was being filled up to the very brim with that voice, by those hands. He thought: See? Nothing else matters. This is what it’s like now. This is your life, Sonny. This is the only reason why you’re here, on planet Earth. For this. For this experience. For this journey. Nothing else matters.

And he wrapped Vinnie Terranova in his arms, holding him tight while the broken parts mended.

 

Vinnie walked through the hospital parking lot, glancing around, finally saw Sonny standing next to the Porsche, and headed for him. Sonny came up to meet him and hugged him warmly, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. “Done?” Sonny asked.

Vinnie nodded. “Done.”

Sonny frowned at him but Vinnie knew why. He’d given him a funny look because he’d had the thought that Sonny had changed. He was still Sonny. Still quick, charismatic, impulsive, deadly if cornered. But with Vinnie he was, well, just pure. Pure Sonny.

They got in the car with Sonny driving. Vinnie said, “I just never heard of it before. Hysterical pregnancy.”

“Me, either.”

“It’s so strange. The things she believes. The things she lets herself believe.”

Sonny turned his face away from the road for a second, glancing at Vinnie meaningfully. “Yeah. Strange. The things people let themselves believe.”

Vinnie rolled his eyes. They’d had this discussion. Sonny thought Vinnie had way too much faith in what he was doing. And faith could blind. And blind faith could get you killed.

Vinnie knew Sonny didn’t believe in changing the world, only the self, and only if you wanted to. And not for any altruistic reasons, that was for sure. Sonny didn’t believe in getting points in Heaven. A set up like that made no sense. No. Sonny was a chaos man. Anti-karma.

But Vinnie was still not quite that cynical. Mel had been stopped, and even Sonny couldn’t argue that a man like that needed to be put out of business. Like the Zhoratso brothers. Like Patrice who still roamed this side of the dirt and still made Sonny’s new life retain a little bit of hell.

Sonny said, “So what’s next?”

Vinnie sighed heavily. “I need a vacation.”

Sonny smiled. “I know just the place. And you’re paying, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work by Natasha Solten, you may also enjoy her m/m romances on Kindle under her non-fanfic name: Wendy Rathbone. Look for "The Foundling," "The Secret Sharer" and the soon to be released "None Can Hold the Dark" (due in fall 2013.) She also has an sf novel out, and a collection of poetry.


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